Golden Gloves referee a boxer, wrestler -- and bounty hunter

Chronicle News Service/Lance WynnLarry Byrd holds a belt he won in the Pro­fessional Wrestling Alliance in February.

GRAND RAPIDS — When Larry Byrd says he likes "the drama," it's never clear if he means inside the boxing ring or outside it.

As a Golden Gloves referee, Byrd, 57, has stood between the wildest of punchers, risking knockout himself from a wayward amateur haymaker.

But that drama doesn't compare to the Grand Rapids man's day job — or, more accurately, night-and-day job — as a professional bounty hunter.

"I've always enjoyed the rough stuff," said the president and CEO of West Michigan Court Services, grinning. In his 33 years there, the job has taken him nationwide in search of bail jumpers. "I've been shot, stabbed and jumped, but I enjoy it, I really do."

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Although he has been part of some high-profile cases — including a recent local case in which he posed as a hit man to apprehend a woman seeking to have her husband murdered — Byrd uses the job more as a measuring tool for his own wile and fitness.

"These kids think they can outrun or outmuscle me until I tackle 'em," said Byrd, who stands 5-foot-3. "We got one guy who told everybody in jail that he had dusted my partner in a foot chase, but he couldn't get away from the little guy."

Today, he's back in the ring in his 26th year as a referee. He'll work this weekend's Michigan Golden Gloves Championships at the National Guard Armory and plans to work the National Golden Gloves Tournament of Champions at DeVos Place May 5-10.

Dave Packer, executive director of Michigan Golden Gloves, has known Byrd for several years.

"He's a good referee," Packer said. "He handles himself real well and gains the kids' respect. He's short but looks intimidating.

"I don't know how many people really know he's a bounty hunter, but that's part of his makeup -- it's a pretty intimidating job."

Chronicle News ServiceBounty hunters Larry Byrd, left, and his son, Larry Byrd Jr., watch in 2007 as Grand Rapids Police try to apprehend a suspect they had been tracking for two months. They alerted police to the supect's location.

Byrd said his worst encounter as a bounty hunter occurred in Arizona, where he took a bullet to the back in a shootout that proved fatal to his target. It was the only person Byrd has ever killed, and he makes it clear he hopes it never happens again.

He'll watch television shows on bounty hunters, but he isn't a big fan of "Dog the Bounty Hunter," featuring Duane "Dog" Chapman on A&E.

"Bounty hunters are real," Byrd said.

"It bothers me when people call me up or ask me for help so they can become bounty hunters because they've seen Dog on television. He turns my stomach. We don't cuss people out like he does — sure, we might get mad at them when we're chasing them, but we don't cuss people out. That's terrible."

Byrd said he always believed his short stature was the key to his success not only as a bounty hunter but as a boxer and professional wrestling champion.

"Kids in school thought they could push me around," Byrd said of his early days at Hall and Lexington schools and, later, Union High School. "Even today, I get guys that think they can get away with things because they assume I'm too small to do anything about it."

Byrd has plenty of stories about bullies who were sorry they ever tested him -- and they're stories Byrd has passed on to each of his nine children, who have been taught to never be the start of trouble, but to never run from it.

Byrd's hard-knock start actually was good conditioning for his later life, leading him first to boxing, where he advanced to a Golden Gloves national runner-up position in 1974 before turning professional and fashioning a 56-2 record with 20 knockouts.

The world boxing spotlight dimmed when, while in training in California to fight aging world champion Roberto Duran, Byrd learned Duran chose instead at the last minute to retire from the sport.

Byrd turned to the original Toughman Contest, finishing third, and then lobbied promoters for a fight with former world super heavyweight champion Eric "Butterbean" Esch and one with local middleweight star Troy Rowland of Cedar Springs.

His age, and the potential of Byrd interrupting the career trajectory of those two fighters, crushed his hopes. But Byrd's quest became even more urgent -- his 14-year-old daughter, Belinda, was diagnosed with bone cancer, and Byrd wanted her to see him win a title.

"Professional wrestling was my best shot at winning a title," said Byrd, who pulls no punches when he unabashedly states the sport is scripted theater -- but not for him.

"Yeah, you know who's going to win before the match and you've got to let the referee know, because you don't want him to count you out too early," Byrd said with a recollection smile. "But I wanted it to be real."

Byrd won the Universal Wrestling Federation belt in 1974 and defended the title 12 times before losing it in Miami Beach. He picked up another one Feb. 14, this one the Professional Wrestling Alliance title he'll defend next month in Houston.

But the belts and accolades came too late for his daughter, who died 12 years ago.

The drama and distractions of boxing and bounty hunting to which he returned provided the solace Byrd needed.

And, he's back on the streets chasing the bad guys -- a pursuit he intends to keep up until at least age 70, despite the danger.